by Thomas, Thea
This was the lesson he'd come upon this mecca to learn. To set aside his self-centered thoughts and to love – kindly, unconditionally, tribally, if he could even begin to aspire to such selfless heights.
And Sage would soon be family when she and Anthony married – if they didn't get a divorce. Anthony had done that once before, divorcing Aunt Alison. But Uncle Anthony would not divorce Sage. He clearly loved her too much.
Michael finally pulled himself away from the picture of Sage's mother and wandered through the rest of the museum. On his way out he bought a book on Zuni art and religious beliefs for himself, and bought a stunning, delicate, silver and turquoise necklace for Sage. He would give her the present after she and Anthony announced their engagement.
Chapter 11
There was nothing Sage would rather less have to go through than another hearing like the one she'd just gone through that put Bill Rattnor away. It had been hellish, and the sooner she could forget it – if she ever could – the happier she'd be. She wanted to pity him, and, to some extent she had this morning, as he emphatically drove his weird logic in his lawyer voice. Not a single thing he said made sense.
Anthony insisted on going with her, for which she was extremely grateful. His support, ever reliable, his friendship, undemanding. These past few weeks he'd spent many valuable hours away from his own concerns to help her and Millie salvage Victoria's estate.
"How are you feeling?" Anthony asked as they drove away from the courthouse, a place she hoped she'd never have to go again.
Sage gave him a wan smile. "Glad it's over."
"Me too." He patted her hand. "You look pallid. Have you been eating? Probably not. Let's go to Angelo's for a bit of lunch."
Sage could never thank Anthony enough for staunchly standing by her, but right now she longed to be alone. She'd been coming to this moment, clearing up the mystery, if not the pain, around Aunt Vicky's death, and as much as she cared for Anthony, she needed a private moment.
"Rain check? You're such a dear, Anthony. I know you'll understand that I... I...."
"I do understand. You need to be alone."
Sage nodded. Tears she'd held back for weeks threatened to spill.
"I wish I could just take the pain away from you. But that will come with time."
"I know." Sage turned and looked out the window. As they climbed the Canyon Road, she took that as a promise, that her heart would one day climb out of the canyon of her grief. One day, she would be happy again.
They said nothing on the rest of the ride to her place. When they arrived, Anthony walked her to the door.
"Give me a call," he said. "If you don't, I'll send my troops."
"Ah, well, the 'troops' already have an appointment. Millie's coming Sunday. We're spend the day going over the last bit of my handing the baton of Aunt Vicky's businesses over to her."
"Your businesses now, dear heart."
"Yes. Well. I'm certainly grateful for Millie's practically mystical appearance in my life. And bonus, I like her all to pieces."
Anthony chuckled. "She is relentlessly charming, amusing and likable. Okay, I'm away. Don't...."
"I know, hesitate to call." She waved and stepped inside.
She turned and put her hands against the door. Resisting turning around in what was now, truly her home. Her responsibility.
But she did turn. It looked the same. And yet, it looked different. Her home. For the first time in her life, she had a place that was truly her own. With a style, furniture and colors all different from what she would choose. But there was one place where she had power, where her choices, and the results of her efforts were purely her own.
She went up to her room, tore off the stuffy courtroom-appropriate suit and jumped into jeans and work shirt. She twirled her hair up in a big hair clip, noticing that the black eye was nearly gone. She paused and studied her own eyes, the color of a turquoise sky, but where lurked the dark-eyed beauty of her mother. Although her mother's image faded, it could never fully disappear as long as Sage had a mirror.
She took a moment to thank her ancestors for watching over her in these troubled times. She felt them all very near. She'd needed to be alone at this moment in order to be with her family. They were here. Sage could feel them now, and she was comforted.
To stay close to them, she needed to touch earth. She hurried downstairs, pulled on her mud boots and her now well broken-in garden gloves, then gathered the garden tools and went out to the fragrant, colorful flower garden.
As she stood in the archway of its charming little wooden arbor that she'd repaired and stained the previous week, she surveyed the handiwork she'd accomplished over the past weeks. She'd planted autumn flowers. Now the little green shoots began to poke through the earth. There'd be gigantic bouquets for the house by Thanksgiving, and wonderful autumn flowers in the garden as well.
She could remember many days when she'd stood at her window in her room, watching the gardener doing what she now did. Why had she stood there all those days, lonely and bored, when she could have, should have been out here?
But Aunt Vicky wouldn't let Sage do anything that a servant or hired hand was paid to do. She also would not allow Sage to do anything that bore any remote resemblance to her Indian background. Aunt Vicky had once said that Sage's mother had stolen her brother from her. And she'd said, too, many times, that Sage was fortunate to have gotten her father's recessive coloring. But she'd always longed to look exactly like her mother, with the dark-yet-kind mystery in the depths of her eyes.
She kept her silence when Vicky got in the mood to criticize her mother. She refused, as much as possible, to hear it. She knew her parents' love was rare. Criticized by family on both sides, they ignored them all and followed their path. In the midst of that incredible love, Sage had been born.
Sage's father, an anthropologist who's work had been to collect and catalog Zuni, Hopi and Pueblo arts, had put the word out that he needed an assistant. Her mother was the first applicant for the job. And, as they both told it, they fell in love at first sight.
Sage could remember, as a young child, her father frequently saying how wonderful it was to be away from the freeways and everything else to do with so-called civilization.
But Aunt Vicky still let Sage know she held more than a grudge against Sage's mother for destroying her plans that her brother would live on a neighboring hill, for stealing him first from her world of wealth, and then for stealing him from the world altogether. In some contorted logic, Aunt Vicky blamed Sage's mother for Sage's father's death.
Sage tried never to think about how her loyalties were torn, because she loved both her mother and her aunt. But now, while she worked on the dense green ivy, training it over the arbor and cutting it back off the walkways, she allowed herself to mull over the problems Aunt Vicky's attitudes had caused her.
What a pity Aunt Vicky couldn't have learned to love Sage's mother! She remembered vividly the day she'd flown to Orange County after her parents died, where Aunt Vicky picked her up at the airport. After saying a curt hello without even so much as a hug, she launched into a complaint about "those Indians" having the funeral without even inviting her. Sage, having just come from the ceremony, was shocked to hear Aunt Vicky talk openly and critically about the sacred event.
That was only the first of many culture shocks Sage had to endure. Under the veneer she quickly learned to cover herself with, however, she remained Indian. And now, she would no longer stifle her roots. She would work in the garden. She would sleep outside under the stars when she felt like it. She would do any earthy, earthly thing she felt she needed to do.
And she would go to school. She wanted to go back to the reservation. She wanted to pick up where her parent left off, she wanted to help her people preserve their heritage. Since she had a foot in both worlds, she intended to make the best of it by by following in her parents footsteps, majoring in anthropology like her father had.
Sage worked on the flower garde
n with an unflagging enthusiasm until the sun went down. She fell asleep in a bath tub full of hot water and mineral crystals, exhausted and sore-muscled.
When she woke up the next morning in bed, she realized that she'd crawled out of the bath, wrapped a towel around herself and climbed into bed, all in her sleep.
She heard Tina's car rumbling up the drive-way. Jumping out of bed, she threw on white cotton pants and a pastel print shirt, and stood brushing her hair on the balcony by the time Tina shut off the engine and got out of her VW.
"Hey! You lazy thing!" Tina called from below, "you going to lay around primping all day, or are you ready to get up and do something?"
"What do you have in mind?" Sage called back.
"Let me in! I need some coffee or tea, or something."
Sage ran down the stairs, feeling light-hearted, very glad that Tina had spontaneously arrived. The last time she'd seen her was a couple of days after Rattnor had tried to kill her.
Tina kicked off her shoes at the door and gave her friend a big hug. "You look fantastic! The black eye is almost completely gone, and you don't look pale as skimmed milk."
"Yes, I'm back to normal – whatever that is!" She chuckled, returning her friend's hug.
The two of them padded barefoot to the kitchen. Tina perched on a kitchen stool while Sage put together a bit of breakfast.
"I've been working on the flower garden," Sage pointed with a large slotted spoon through the window. "Yesterday I trained the ivy over the arbor."
"I see... that's very charming! It was becoming kind of an eye-sore. But don't overdo it. You're still healing."
"I take it easy. rake a bit, sit a bit, plant a bit, listen to birds a bit. It's extremely therapeutic and makes me so happy, even though the whole thing with Bill Rattnor...."
"So what happened at the hearing with that creep, anyway?"
"He's pretty over the edge. Nothing he says makes sense. His doctor testified and said Bill had a psychotic break. Which anyone can clearly see without being told. In any case, he's under lock and key and no longer a worry of mine.
But, as I mentioned, the good news has been that not only are my finances not in the state of total ruin that they first appeared to be, Millie has turned out to be a godsend. She's brilliant and is always one step ahead of me as we're sorting through the muddle Rattnor made of Aunt Vicky's estate. He certainly did succeed in spending a sizable amount of her money in a surprisingly short while. I don't care. I don't need to be rich, I just want to be organized."
"I'm glad that the surprise about Millie's 'hidden talents' is working out for both of you. That means that you can stop worrying about all the stuff and come out and play."
Sage laughed. "Well, something like, I guess." She poured boiling water into the tea pot. "I can get a more reasonable car. In fact, let's go car shopping. That's sort of like play, isn't it?"
"Big kid play, yes, indeedy!" Tina agreed.
Sage piled all the breakfast goodies on a tray and led the way to the breakfast nook, Tina following with dishes and silverware. They both sat facing the window so they could admire the reincarnating garden.
"I also thought," Tina said,"that you and I might register for classes."
"Mind reader! Just last night I decided to go back to school – major in anthropology. I want to pick up where my parents left off and work with my tribe."
"Like you've always wanted to," Tina observed.
"How do you know?"
"I do listen when you speak, Sage. Over the years you've said a lot of little things."
"But I didn't even decide this myself until yesterday, with my hands in the earth of the garden."
"You didn't put the pieces together, but it's all been there. You just needed freedom to let yourself see it."
Sage gave Tina a hug. "You're awesome."
They sat quietly sipping tea.
"So," Tina broke the silence, "from things that you're interested in to people that you're interested in... what do you hear of Michael lately?"
"You mean the person you're interested in, don't you?" Sage teased.
"Let's be perfectly honest... a person we're both interested in."
They giggled.
"I do have a bit of interesting information about him," Sage said. "With all the dramatic events, I completely forgot to tell you. He's not involved with Millie. They're friends. She delivers the mail at Micro Silicon."
"You forgot to tell me that?"
"Well, it's been...."
"Crazy, I understand."
Sage nodded.
Tina leaned back in her chair, twirling a lock of her long brown hair. Her green eyes sparkled. "What are you going to do about him?"
"What am I going to 'do' about him?" Sage shook her head. "Nothing. I don't chase men, I've got too much to attend to right now. I have to sort out my feelings for Anthony, and his feelings for me. He appears to dislike me."
"Who appears to dislike you?" Tina asked, confused.
"Michael!" Sage answered. "Michael doesn't like me. I don't know why, but he always seems to be angry with me. No, angry is too strong. He always seems to be just... peeved with me. The first night I met him he clearly thought I was an idiot. In his defense, I did have the limo all across the road. And then, well, maybe it's chemistry, but he just does not like me."
Sage paused, then went on, "I think he has some attitude about Anthony and me. I don't know, maybe he thinks I'm after his uncle's money...."
Tina grunted. "Phooey. That's easily cleared up. Anyone who knows you, knows you care about people, not money."
"But on the other hand, Tina, I don't feel I should have to clear it up. If someone thinks of me that way, well, they can just have that opinion."
"Biting off your nose to spite your own lovely face. Always an interesting approach," Tina nodded.
"Anyway, I have all these things to do...."
"Okay. I hear the excuses. For some reason, you don't want to do anything about the only man I've ever seen you actually interested in. I won't nag you anymore about it." Tina paused. "Can I have him?"
Sage laughed then shrugged. "Sure, you can have him if he's to be had, but I'm in no position to give him away. I wish you all the luck in the world. He's wonderful to look at, but seems difficult to get along with. I leave it up to you to find that out for yourself."
Sage stood and started to clear the breakfast dishes. "In the meantime, let's get moving on all our projects. Can I go dressed this casually?"
"Perfect, as always. Let's hit the road."
Chapter 12
Michael answered his phone distracted, mind on his work.
"Hi, gorgeous!" Came a cheerful yet unfamiliar voice.
"Hello," he answered, flagging a potential trouble spot on the computer chip drawing spread out on his desk.
"How's life treating you?"
"Over-worked, but fine." Why isn't this person identifying herself? he wondered, continuing to track down the error in the diagram.
"Sounds like you need a break. Why don't you meet me for lunch?"
"Millie?" As soon as he said it, he knew he was wrong. There was nothing about Millie in this woman's voice.
"No. Sorry, I guess I didn't introduce myself. It's Tina."
Michael was blank.
"Sage's friend... you met me at Anthony's party some time ago."
"Oh, yes, now I remember." Michael finally put down his pencil. His train of thought destroyed. "What... why are you calling?"
"I thought we might go to lunch. I'd like to talk with you about a couple of things."
"Talk about a couple of things? I don't... know you," Michael answered.
"Oh, well, if it's that taxing to spend some time with me...."
Then he realized that Tina might want to talk about Sage. "I'm sorry, Tina," Michael's tone softened. "I've been really over-extended at work. I have a difficult time shifting gears. I think I'm with you now."
"Great! Let's start over... shall we go to lunch?"
/>
"Okay. When?"
"Is today...."
"Today isn't good," Michael's gaze returned to the computer chip, "but tomorrow works, if it's good for you."
"Excellent. Do you know Monterey Bay Cannery?"
"Yes...that's one place I happen to know."
"Noonish?"
"Okay."
"Will you recognize me?" Tina asked.
"I think so. I recall you have very long dark hair."
"Right. I'll stand with my back to the door." She giggled endearingly. "See you tomorrow. Bye."
Michael chuckled as he hung up. He entered a note on his calendar.
The next day Michael came into the restaurant at twelve-thirty. He'd completely forgotten his luncheon date – until the little calendar alarm went off on his phone.
Harried, he abandoned his work and dashed to the restaurant. He ran into the restaurant, looking for long dark hair, when someone touched his elbow.
He turned to look into two huge green eyes.
"Hi," Tina said in a cool, collected voice.
"Hi," Michael answered, "Tina?"
"Very good. You remembered my name."
"Yes, I remember your name, I just don't remember your face. That is, I don't remember you looking like this."
Tina, a tanned goddess, her long hair shining with highlights, wore a jade green Hawaiian print strapless sun dress. She was cool as mint julep.
"Not too flattering, considering you were looking right at me while I taught you how to waltz."
"Don't take my boorishness for an insult, please!" Michael protested. "I'm afraid I was primarily looking at your feet... or mine while struggling with the waltz. Anyway, I apologize for being late, I... I'm... work has me...."
"That's all right." Tina waved his apology aside. "I got a table by the window, ordered a glass of wine and watched for you to come. I thought you might not."
Michael wondered at being considered someone who would not keep an appointment. But she was right. If not for the alarm on his phone, who would have inadvertently stood her up.
Tina led the way to a secluded booth. A giant reed ceiling fan turned lazily overhead. Michael felt himself relaxing.